


They Don't Know

by Medie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she and Daniel are alone, they rarely speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Know

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://jenab.livejournal.com/profile)[**jenab**](http://jenab.livejournal.com/)'s [Het Porn Battle](http://jenab.livejournal.com/329833.html). Prompt was Their own. Title comes from the Leann Rimes song "Right Kind of Wrong"

For some, silence is deafening. They can, and will, do and say anything to fill it.

Vala knows that most would count her in that number. Just as she knows that they find her constant chatter tedious, but her pestering of Daniel amusing. She knows their assumption of her is shallow, petty, and not particularly bright. They assume that her skills as a thief and con artist are somehow useful, but that it is the Ori's interest in her that has kept her in their midst.

She suspects none of them would believe the truth. When she and Daniel are alone, they rarely speak. They find little use for it. Or, more accurately, they find little truth in it. Words are too easily lies. Vala is not a woman given to blindness. She is willful in her ignorance of some things, but she is not blind. The ghosts which crowd Daniel's gaze are subtle, he hides them well, but to Vala still glaring.

Of course, Qetesh left her with ghosts of her own. More than even Daniel can see. More than he should.

Her Daniel is a broken man as she is a broken woman. Vala curls closer in the dark, a smile curving her lips. Their edges are jagged, brittle, and raw, but they fit.

She doesn't have to explain that to him.

Daniel sighs in his sleep, brow furrowing. Vala slides a gentle touch over his skin until his hand catches hers. Not so long ago, that hand played across the keys of a piano. It is a peculiar looking thing, but the music Daniel can evoke from its depths is not. She can hear the melodies still, soft and haunting in their beauty.

He plays for her often, but it is not nearly enough. She doesn't like to think of what that desire suggests. It speaks of things she'd thought long dead. Murdered by the non-existent fingers of a false goddess.

In the faint light of the moon, Vala can see Daniel's eyes slide open. He shifts onto his side, looking down at her without speaking.

She smiles at him, doesn't explain why she's awake, just passes a touch along his jaw. He smiles, faint but real and for her alone. No one else would believe it if they saw him like this. She doesn't think about what that means either so she kisses him instead.

He chuckles, surprised, and almost tips forward. She's surprised him. Vala laughs into the kiss and slides a leg around his, trying to draw him closer. There are things that she could think, poetic words and pretty sayings that might well fit the moment, but she's not that woman. Words are distractions, pictures to be painted to hide the truth.

There's not much hiding to be done here. Not much needed really.

She turns into the kiss, angling her body to press against his. Daniel's hand comes to rest on her hip, thumb rubbing circles into her hip. Memories push against her thoughts, trying to crowd out the low hum of pleasure already building. The lingering remnants of Qetesh.

Tensing, she tries to push the thoughts back. Daniel's touch stills for a moment and he pulls away, looking at her. These moments have come fewer and fewer with each passing year, but she is not completely free.

After a moment, he nods and she breathes. Settling back against the pillow, she relaxes. Or tries. The first touch of his lips brings a new tension to her body.

Hissing a breath of anticipation, Vala digs hands into sheets and waits impatiently. Daniel's hands part her thighs and his lips follow the curve of her hip, chasing the soft crease of skin to somewhere far more intimate.

This time, his hesitation is pure devilment and she makes a noise of frustration. He laughs. If not for the way his mouth touches her skin, coaxing a cry of pleasure from her body, she thinks she might hate him.

But his mouth does, and when he does it again, his fingers sliding swift and sure into her body, she's lost. When he moves up, his body pushing into hers, Vala is thrumming with satisfaction.

"The cat that ate the cream," murmurs Daniel.

Vala grins. Sam explained the expression once. She thinks, given the lives those peculiar creatures lead, it is an apt description. "Go to sleep, Daniel."

Within moments, as men are wont to do, he does, leaving Vala to watch him again.

It is simple, really. Those people who would not believe? Are utter morons.


End file.
